Five years later

We moved away from England five years ago, and I'm more grateful than I ever thought I would be

Five years ago this week, my family moved from Cambridge, England to Kansas City. It’s often been hard for me to separate fact from fiction in how I remember the events of the eleven weeks that precipitated our move. In my grief, I’ve tended toward an uncharitable view in which I was the victim of our circumstances, my husband’s choices, and systems outside of my control. Perhaps, to a degree, there is at least some fairness in letting the blame lie with our circumstances and said systems, but I’m trying to fix my revisionist history of that summer, particularly as I reflect on all the ways I’ve grown and experienced joy in these five years since we made that move.

From our last walk to Mill Pond

In May of 2021, I was working full time at Cambridge University Hospitals as a deputy lead chaplain after returning from a nine month maternity leave in January (an experience that radicalized me against how the US handles healthcare and paid leave). My daughter was born four days before lockdown began in 2020, and we spent much of the year prior finding our equilibrium again, even as the UK was still in and out of covid responses and precautions. Things were beginning to feel settled.

Our visas were due to expire in November of that year, so we were creatively looking for ways to extend them, but no obvious answers presented themselves. Then Jonathan received a call about a job in Kansas City. I remember him sitting in a chair in our garden talking to our friend who contacted him about it as I listened from a few paces away. He hung up the phone and I started to cry. “We’re moving to Kansas City, aren’t we?” Call it premonition or acceptance; my intuition seemed to recognize the significance of that call and what it would mean.

We spent several weeks weighing the pros and cons, wondering about the likelihood of a visa extension of we stayed, and whether it was worth the loss of our lives in England, carefully and lovingly built over five years, to move back to the US. I usually say we felt like we were choosing between the desire of our hearts and the sensible option of stability. We chose stability, and I tried to muster hope that all would be well in God’s time. Fast forward a short eleven weeks, and we were on a plane.

I can see the sadness in my eyes

Why don’t all airport security lines offer popsicles to children?

You should know that for the five years we lived in Cambridge, I told Jonathan, “We can go anywhere after this as long as it isn’t Kansas City.”

LOL.

The first eighteen months were rough. I learned a lot about my mental health, started medication, experienced deep grief and truly felt consumed by my anxiety and despair. Depression is the worst.

Slowly, with God’s help, I started to build a life and vocation for myself here that wasn’t only a byproduct of my circumstances. I found meaningful work, made good friends, relinquished one set of credentials, and am very nearly the process of having my ordination restored in a church I chose — in a church which chose me.

Let me tell you, the joke is absolutely on me. I love Kansas City. I love the life we’ve built here, the home we’ve found, the communities we’ve joined, and the restoration of dreams that felt long out of reach. I feel held in the love of God in this place, and have experienced God’s provision of joy alongside God’s provision for our necessities.

I reflect on the last five years with more gratitude than I ever anticipated. And now we’re faced with similar decisions for the future as my husband and I are both discerning what comes next for our vocations. Will we go with a safe choice? Will we take a leap toward something that feels less known? I still struggle to let go of logistical planning, still, but I’m learning how to first discern the call — what sparks my heart? Only once that is identified, found, brought forth, named should I move to logistics.

The logistics sure matter. Healthcare provision, cost of living, opportunities for meaningful work for both my husband and me, schooling and therapies for my children. All of it so important. But if I start with those questions, I may very well miss something that God might do beyond what I could have anticipated. God has been faithful in each of our transitions so far. This tells me I can rely on God’s future faithfulness, too.

And in the meantime I give thanks for our move five years ago which has brought so much beauty and meaning into our lives. I am hopeful that in God’s time, whatever comes next will do the same.

Surprising no one more than me, I’m now a Kansas City girl through and through